


How Was It a Hit and Miss

by AliLamba



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Feelings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 21:35:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6256726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliLamba/pseuds/AliLamba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bryan and Miller missing scenes.</p><p> </p><p>It takes a while to get past the kissing part. The gropey, disbelieving, kissing part, where fingers clamor for every reassurance that this other person is real and alive in your hands. Your brain needs to form them like clay – figment to reality, hope to relief.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Was It a Hit and Miss

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been deeply in love with Bryan + Miller – I’m calling them _Millan_ – for all of two weeks. It’s amazing and I do not apologize.

 

 

 

It takes a while to get past the kissing part. The gropey, disbelieving, kissing part, where fingers clamor for every reassurance that this other person is real and alive in your hands. Your brain needs to form them like clay – figment to reality, hope to relief.

“God you guys get a room.”

It’s Bellamy’s way of saying he’s happy for them.

Bryan grins a little against his lips.

But the reality switch has been flipped in Miller’s mind. Nate is suddenly very conscious that they’re making out in public, well, kind of public, as in, the hallway, which is as far as they made it after seeing each other, as far as the stupor had taken to wear off. And now he’s half hard and has a stomach full of butterflies and – Miller pulls back, breathes a shallow breath, like a breeze into a cave – he wants privacy.

“I have a room.”

Bryan’s eyebrows quirk, part skeptic, part eagerness.

“You do?”

Miller licks his lips. He stares at Bryan’s. “Yeah.”

He can’t help it. He kisses Bryan again, chaste, like – he just needed one more.

He grabs Bryan’s hand, starts walking down the hall toward his quarters. His heart is racing, he can barely sustain eye contact with anyone, he’s not totally sure he recognizes anyone else or if that part of his brain has literally shorted. Bryan’s hand is warm and firm in his, occasional pulses of affirmation.

Then they’re outside his door, and Miller is swallowing forcefully. His free hand pauses on the handle, he spares a glance at the man he loves, and he opens the door.

Bryan walks inside first, and Miller watches him explore the space with his gaze. It’s not much, as far as rooms go, but Miller has one to himself, in part deference to his job and in part deference to his dad. It’s got a bed and a lamp and sheets and stuff…it’s enough of a place to sleep when not on the job.

Miller closes the door behind himself and inadvertently holds his breath. Bryan is unmoving, a few steps ahead of him, so Miller moves to stand next to him, to see what he sees, to try to gauge his expression from the corner of his eye.

“It’s not much,” he apologizes.

“It’s – Nate – it’s…it’s a _fucking bed_.”

Miller turns to face him more (Bryan doesn’t swear a lot but maybe he’s remembering wrong), and Bryan turns the same. Bryan throws his arms around Miller, grabs him tightly, doesn’t let go, and it’s almost like they’re naked they’re holding each other so close, but of course there are thick jackets and shirts and pants in the way. “It’s a fucking _bed_ ,” Bryan reiterates, and Nate knows that his boyfriend’s crying. He rubs Bryan’s back, trying not to imagine what Bryan has been through since landing on Earth. There will be time to learn all of that later.

 _Later_. Miller looks up at the ceiling of this room that has never really meant much to him. They have a _later_.

 

 

Nate kicks the sheets over Bryan’s feet when they’re through the _fucking each other senseless_ part. They’re still all wrapped up in each other, arms and legs and torsos and hips tangled tight like a knot. It’s like they’re maybe not sure how long their interlude is going to last, maybe trying to make up for a million lost moments with how they press their skin together.

This is their moment, one of, they don’t know how many. They have this moment. They will keep this moment.

Miller runs his fingers over Bryan’s arm, tracing the vein on his bicep. He remembers these arms leaner, muscled from pulling weeds and not killing men.

“You’re stronger, than you used to be.”

Bryan smiles against Miller’s torso, oblivious.

“So are you.”

Miller looks at the top of Bryan's head. “It’s been a sort of survival workout.”

“Yeah.”

“Are your feet cold?”

“A little.”

“I have, uh – I have socks.”

“No,” Bryan smiles again, leans up on an elbow, looks down at Miller. “I’m okay.”

Miller looks up at him, and there is a tangled, vicious love in his chest for his boyfriend. He can’t – he won’t ever be able to articulate the anxiety he’s held as a secret in his heart for this man. And he knows, that Bryan understands. He feels the unexpected rush of tears.

“Fuck.”

“Nate,” Bryan whispers, ducking his head, kissing Miller’s cheeks.

“I fucking – I just can’t believe it. I can’t believe you’re here. That – that we’re here – ”

“In this bed.”

Nate swallows around a painful lump. “Yeah.” He holds Bryan’s gaze, hard, just daring him to look away. “I fucking love you, okay? I fucking love you.” Bryan’s gaze is watery now, and he throws his leg over Nate’s waist, straddling him, grabbing his face with two hands and kissing him. “I fucking love you,” Nate repeats, and they kiss hard, with quiet desperation.

 

 

_“Hey Soldier!”_

_At first he’s not sure where the voice’s come from, because Miller’s looking at a lot of bodies, moving between rows of low plant hedges. He glances at his partner, wondering if he should be interested in finding the source of the call._

_“When’re you gonna start patrolling the actually dangerous sectors? Not sure there’s much crime in soy production.”_

_“Unless you count extreme boredom,” Miller’s partner answers, under his breath. He catches Miller’s gaze and shrugs. “Ignore him. Let’s keep going.”_

_Miller’s willing to agree, but he’s still sixteen and pretty unworldly. He’s barely comfortable with the idea that he’s holding a gun and has the license to use it, not really sure how he would handle a heckler. Who doesn’t like him? He can’t help looking over his shoulder as he follows his partner/preceptor._

_And there’s this guy, probably no older than him, and he’s smirking into the plants he’s tending to._

_And Miller is sure that the voice was his._

_“Hey, Soldier!”_

_Miller straightens quickly, gaze searching for the source of the call. His shoulders slump and Miller frowns when he recognizes the guy coming toward him in the mess hall._

_“You can’t – just because I’m not in uniform doesn’t mean I can’t arrest you.”_

_“Jeez, calm down, it’s called a greeting.”_

_“What – why are you – why are you sitting here?”_

_“Uh, because no one else is? And I’m hungry? Plus I sort of get off on watching people eat things I might have spat on.”_

_Miller reexamines his plate, and the guy laughs. It’s not a really mocking laugh._

_“Relax. I’ve been working soy for the last few months. The brown stuff is safe.” Miller meets this guy’s eyes. “From me, at least.”_

_“You can’t keep calling me soldier like that.”_

_“What should I call you then?”_

_Miller freezes. His cheeks feel warmer all of a sudden. “Uh. Miller.”_

_“Miller? Sounds like it ought to be my name.”_

_“Nate,” he clarifies. “Nate, uh, Miller.”_

_“Nate Miller.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Nice to meet you Nate Miller.”_

_There’s a beat of silence._

_“What, so you’re not going to tell me your name?”_

_The guy grins. “So what if I won’t? You going to call me Miller?”_

_His cheeks are, most definitely warmer now._

_“What do you want?”_

_“To talk to you. Which I’m doing. And eat. Which I’m – “ he leans over with his fingers, grabs some square-shaped protein off Miller’s plate, “ – doing.” He pops the food in his mouth and chews it._

_Miller’s heart is beating faster than normal._

_“Do you do this to everyone you know? No wonder you don’t have other people to sit with.”_

_As if just to prove him wrong, a small herd of people shuffle past their table, calling out to his tablemate, who responds with a bright smile and small salute. It’s damn cute. This guy’s damn cute._

_“How old are you, anyway?”_

_Miller mumbles his reply._

_“Sixteen? That’s a little young to be in guard school.”_

_“Oh yeah? How old are you?”_

_“Seventeen.”_

_“Oh, because that’s so much older.”_

_The guy grins. His teeth are nice and straight, and Miller feels that quickening warmth below his belt. Crap. He might not be able to stand up all at once if this guy doesn’t leave soon._

_“I’m seventeen in a month, okay? My dad’s – my dad’s a guard. I was always going to be a guard. No reason not to start early.”_

_“Sounds about right. You look good in that jacket.”_

_“I’m not wearing my jacket.”_

_“I know.”_

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit._

_“Look, it’s – you’re cute, okay? I think you’re really cute, and I think we should hang out. Maybe not when you’re on duty and I’m not bent over soybeans.”_

_Miller is audaciously silent. He can’t think of a damn thing to say. He’s being asked out by a hot guy he’s maybe thought of more than a few times at night, and his life is sort of unreal right now._

_“I don’t know your name.”_

_“Well, you can get to know it on our date. Tomorrow night, meet here, around seven?”_

_A small, hesitant smile is starting to creep around the corners of Miller’s mouth. “Yeah. That could work.”_

_He’s treated to that sunny grin this guy had shown his friends. Nate’s heartrate spikes again. He’s definitely not going to be able to stand up all at once._

_“Until tomorrow, Soldier.”_

_“See you then, Miller.”_

“I never thought I’d see you in uniform.”

Bryan looks up at him, tentative smile on his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It looks good though.”

Bryan tugs the jacket into place, trying to get it fit better.

Miller can’t stop himself. He ducks toward his boyfriend, slides a hand into the curve of Bryan’s neck, and kisses him, long and lingering. He’s unsure if he’ll ever be able to stop himself from kissing him, which is, such a backwards attempt at the stoic civility that’s been ingrained in him since childhood. Soldiers don’t show emotion. Soldiers don’t let emotions get the better of them. Soldiers aren’t just kids in dress up; soldiers haven’t seen what Miller and Bryan have seen.

“You’re always gonna be a miller to me,” Nate whispers, not pulling away all at once. They’re expected on guard duty in fifteen minutes, but maybe they’ll be late their first shift. Bellamy will understand. Bryan meets his gaze then, searching Nate's face, worry tainting his expression. Nate’s not sure where the worry’s coming from, not really sure how to ask where it’s coming from. He’s suddenly afraid then, afraid to go on guard duty with his boyfriend, afraid to wrap Bryan up in this terrible life they’ve found themselves in.

Bryan kisses him then, a more urgent, searing kiss. There’s still so much to talk about, still so much to learn and understand.

But they love each other. That’s their truth.

And they have later.

 


End file.
